Spring and the rain that brings out the vivid green of the new leaves
You laugh unexpectedly
Catch me off guard, make me look up.
I like to think we are cicadas, 13, 17 year cicadas,
Buried underground for all that time,
A secret that the earth holds,
Waiting like a dream.
And then the hour comes and we emerge,
Blinding, like the sunlight, in our intensity,
More than a flock and more than a swarm
More and more and more until our cast- off shells pile up in drifts
Until our dead bodies coat the earth,
Our eggs safely in the ground again.
It is spring that makes me think this
I bury myself in my thoughts for so long
And then you laugh and I look up